Home, Sweet Home
by chezchuckles
Summary: A Dash Companion for Christmas. Two chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Home, Sweet, Home**

* * *

a Dash Companion

* * *

Kate brushes her fingers over the soft down of dark hair, traces the tiny, almost translucent skin of Dashiell's ear, skims her thumb over the little bumps on his cheek. His face is so long, so narrow, but he's all screwed up in sleep, his body hunched into hers, like he wants closer, back under her heart.

The hospital is noisy and he startles awake whenever the door opens. She lulls him back down, easing him rung by rung into dreams again, only to have him be jostled out of his sleep once more.

She presses her lips to the top of his head, feels the heat of him against her kiss.

She has a baby boy. Oh, she has a baby boy.

She curls her legs up and shifts onto her side just a little, Dashiell in a tight clump high up on her chest, skin to skin because he seems to fall asleep easier that way. She keeps her palm at his neck, her fingers spread wide to brace his head and she lets herself curl in around him, watch him in the dim light of the room.

Their last night in the hospital. She wants out. She wants to go home - three days is too much. But Castle was threatening to _sue_ after the retained placenta, and the whole staff has been hovering, and making her crazy with it - Castle was wise to go home and get some sleep, let her have some peace.

She feels fine now; she doesn't remember passing out, doesn't remember the blood. She remembers his face when she woke, a terror she's never - _never_ - seen before. It sticks in her throat when she least expects it.

Dashiell shifts in his sleep, a sign he's waking again, poor thing, and she nuzzles his cheek with her nose, breathes him in. That so-small fist comes against her chin, fingers slowly splay open, the flick of nails already needing to be cut.

Kate shifts back to look and his eyes are open. That strange grey as they slowly begin to darken, trying to focus on her face.

"Hey, sweet boy," she murmurs. She's such an idiot, but how could she know? How could she ever have known what this does to her, what just the sight of him, the feel of his little body in her arms, the smell-

She's not taking this from Castle either, could never - not now, now that she knows - could never even think of taking the baby and living apart from her son's father. How ridiculous that she ever thought she _should._ She wanted to give them time to get on track with each other, adjust to the newly arrived, unbreakable bond between them - oh, all kinds of _crap_ she thought was so smart, so practical.

Kate eases closer and kisses her son's forehead, pulls back to see his eyes opening again after that reflexive blink. She reaches a hand between them and splays it over his body, so long but still so small, that paper thin skin at the insides of his arms, the soft cotton of his onesie, the thin blanket tangling her fingers.

Dashiell suddenly startles, eyes wide, and the door clicks open a beat later.

"Kate?"

She turns her head and sees Castle slinking in, all humbled awe and held-back joy in his posture.

"Hey," she murmurs, smiling at him, silly and wide.

"He's awake," Castle whispers, coming closer, his eyes on his son.

"Yeah."

"You tired?"

"I'm okay."

He's just standing there, head tilted as his gaze travels over Dashiell, and she realizes that he wants to hold him. Wants him. And she doesn't want to give him up.

"Sit with me," she says instead, easing onto her back again, Dash curled up practically at her neck now.

"Sit?"

"Come on, Castle," she whispers, scooting over in the hospital bed.

He gets a hip up, but pauses, studying her, and she nods in encouragement. He finally slides in next to her, his hands awkwardly in his lap.

"Like this?"

She frowns at his careful whisper, the way he holds himself stiffly. Whatever. She has no energy to figure this out right now. Kate presses her shoulder to his and turns into him, feels the rigid muscles of his side begin to soften.

"We can share," she murmurs, lifting a smile to him.

His hands come up to receive the baby, his eyes darting from her to his son, back and forth like he doesn't know where to look, and Kate shifts Dashiell half into his father's arms.

"We can share," Castle breathes out, and she feels his mouth at the top of her head, his reverent kiss. "Yeah. That's good."

She keeps one arm under Dashiell, but Castle has him, he's fine, and it feels so good to lean against Castle's side and let her eyes droop, her body rest.

"I love you, Kate," he whispers at her temple.

"Love you too," she murmurs back.

* * *

He holds his mewling son against his chest, cups his hand over the boy's ear as he sways; it seems to do the trick. The pitiful cries temper, drop to nothing, and he feels Dashiell's body grow heavier.

He's so long and skinny. Alexis was round and fat as a baby, but Dash is thin bones and alien face, a little creature they're still trying to figure out. He doesn't much like sleep, even though he needs it, but he does love to be held, swaddled tight against them.

Okay, so Castle has probably spoiled him a little, picking him up and holding him while he sleeps. His fault. But he's on duty tonight and he likes nothing more than swaying slowly with his son in front of the living room windows, helping him drift back to sleep.

Just when he thinks Dash has dropped off, the boy's head pops back up, a startled cry drifting into the cold air.

"Hush, wild man, hush. You need to sleep."

Castle curls his fingers at the back of Dashiell's head, presses his lips to the side of his son's face, feels him squirm, pitiful sounds coming from him.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Sleep is good for you. I promise. Your big sister's asleep; Mommy's asleep. Now it's your turn. So it can be my turn next."

Dashiell whines and presses his face into Castle's chest, rubbing back and forth. He eases the baby away, but those long, red scratches haven't shown up yet. He's kind of proud of himself for that. They still haven't figured out what causes them, but at least Castle has somehow prevented them tonight.

His son lets out another sharp cry and Castle winces, shifts the baby closer, dipping his knees as he walks to give the kid a little more drag. The movement seems to help; Dashiell's body wilts against his father.

"Okay, okay, I got you. Let's see. . .want to hear a bedtime story? Will that help? I bet it will, huh? Alexis always liked my stories. And your mother does too, even though she still has trouble admitting it. So let's think of a story."

He sways as he paces before the broad windows, his mouth at his son's temple, murmuring his words and kissing his skin. He can't help it. His son - it's his son.

"Once upon a time. . .see all good stories start like that. It lets your reader know exactly what they're being set up for. If I'd said, _It was a dark and stormy night_ - well, then you'd know something sinister was bound to happen."

Dashiell isn't asleep; in fact, he's tilted his head back to see his father, eyes so dark, mouth pursed open. But he's close to sleep. He's so very close.

"Once upon a time. There was a handsome and rich man who lived in a castle. Let's call him the King. He had a beautiful daughter who was his princess, and he had all he could want. Or he thought he did. Until one day, the King met a woman who-"

Dashiell squirms and lets out a irritable noise, a half-cry that winds down into a pitiful mewling again, like the kid is being tortured.

"Alright, alright," Castle sighs, smirking at the top of his son's head. "You're our kid, aren't you? Well then. It was a dark and stormy night."

Dashiell's body stills, baby fingers flex at Castle's shirt.

"A night when most people would never go outside - the wind howling, the rain coming down in sheets and stinging the eyes, lightning licking the sky. But someone had gone out. Someone had gone out and now. . ."

As Castle trails off, he feels Dashiell growing heavier, sees his lashes float down his cheeks, startle back up. So close. Nearly there, wild man; you can do it.

"And now," he murmurs quietly. "A man is dead. Violently. Brutally. And it will take a keen mind and a stubborn will to solve his murder - just like the mystery-solving team known as. . ."

Dashiell is asleep.

"As Mommy and Daddy."

Castle sighs out in the darkness, studies his son's fine eyelids, the round slope of his nose, the crinkle of his lips as they're mashed against his father's chest.

He stays perfectly still.

He stays there for two hours, barely breathing, until he's certain his son won't wake again.

* * *

When she unlocks the door to the loft and drops the keys into the bowl on the hall table, she's not really paying attention. But then she has to bend down and collect the fast little toddler that tries to run right past her; she scoops Dashiell up and kisses his sticky fingers.

"What have you-"

Oh my word.

She stares at the monstrous Christmas tree in front of her, the massive boxes pulled out beside it, the shiny metallic tin soldiers that are nearly life-sized, the plastic bin that holds a complicated looking train, the sparkly red candles, the stacks of fresh wreaths, and already she can see where Dashiell has been playing in tinsel. Or - maybe that's just Castle.

He comes in from the study with a pile of decorations in his arms and grins widely at her. "Hey, you're home early."

She stares at him. "Why does it. . .why is there. . ."

"Cool, huh? I think this is the biggest tree we've ever had."

She can't make her mouth form words. Was this what it looked like last year? Dashiell was a newborn and she doesn't really remember the details. It was a haze of sleep deprivation and an intense craving for coffee and somewhere in the middle of all that was this two month old who absorbed every ounce of her attention and time and energy and love.

And oh. Of course. Castle proposed. So he might have been distracted from his true Christmas spirit by being so very nervous - he was _so_ nervous last year - and now she can see that he's reverted to type.

"Castle. It looks like Buddy the Elf has decorated your loft."

He grins even wider, putting his decorations on the couch and coming to her; she's still rooted to her spot in the entryway with a squirmy boy in her arms trying to get down.

"Yeah, awesome, right?"

Awesome isn't the word she was looking for.

"Hey, so how tired are you?" he says, his face all hesitant and hopeful and eager.

And she can't ruin it. She hasn't really given Christmas much of a thought, but he seems to be filled to the brim with ideas and plans, and she just can't do it to him.

"Not tired at all," she says finally.

"Oh, good," he says with relish, taking Dashiell out of her arms. "You go change into something comfortable. And warm. I want to take you guys somewhere."

"Out?" she says, and hears her own whiny voice.

"Out. I promise it's worth it. Go change."

Something in his voice, or maybe the joy in his eyes, makes her hurry. She's stripping as she goes down the hallway, turning over her shoulder to drop her dress shirt on top of Dashiell's head as he follows. She hears his giggles and grins to herself.

Okay, so this isn't that bad.

She pulls on a dark sweater and jeans, lets Dashiell climb up on their bed and tackle her, his sweet-scented breath in her face. "What did Daddy feed you, huh? Chocolate? I bet he did."

Dashiell puts his sticky fingers in her hair and she winces, gathering him close and carrying him into the bathroom to wash his hands. She sets him on the counter and holds him there with a thigh as she reapplies her mascara.

When she comes out of their room, following Dash down the hallway as he runs full tilt for the living room, she finds Castle hanging stockings.

Four of them in a row. Their little family.

She bites her lip and scrapes the hair back from her face. "Okay, Castle. Take me out."

He turns around with that wide, eye-crinkling grin, and he comes for her. "Beautiful. Get your coat. I'll get Dash in his. And then we'll go."

They hustle into coats, Castle carrying Dash onto the elevator and then out of the lobby as well, trying to keep him from running away. Kate forgot her gloves so she tucks one hand into his pocket the moment they get out on the street, shivering.

Dashiell rubs at his hat, trying to get it off, grunting at them for the torture device they've installed on his head, but she wrinkles her nose and tugs it down a little farther.

"Stays on, wild man. You need it."

Castle nods towards the street in front of his building and she sees his car service. "We're not walking?"

"Something of a trek with the wild man. The service will get us close, and then we'll have to walk the last few blocks."

The car is already warm and cozy, the dark night kept outside the windows. Dashiell gets strapped into the car seat between them (which Castle pays extra for them to provide), and Kate leans around the kid to ghost her fingers over Castle's knee just to see that eye-crinkling smile again.

That's why she's doing this - the late night excursion - even though all she wants is to hide in her bathtub and disappear for a while.

She figures out where they're going about the same time that the car has to finally stop and let them out. Castle wrestles with Dash as Kate climbs out on her side, watching the people streaming past them, all heading for the same place.

When she joins her family on the sidewalk, he shrugs at her. "I wanted to do something memorable for Dashiell. Just - Christmas is supposed to be amazing, Kate."

"He's thirteen months old, Castle. He won't remember any of this."

But he's right - it's still kind of amazing, even as she says it. They follow the crowd and when they finally worm their way to the best vantage point, it takes her breath away.

"We made it just in time," Castle murmurs. There's a band playing and someone over a microphone doing all the MC duties, television cameras and a tightly packed crowd, but suddenly and seemingly without warning, the massive Christmas tree lights up.

Dashiell gasps.

The Rockefeller Center Christmas tree is jaw-droppingly gorgeous this year, blazing with so many lights that she can barely take it in.

Dashiell's dark eyes are reflecting the twinkle of white flames and she leans in to kiss his cheek. His baby fingers come up to her hair and tangle, keeping her close, and Castle gives her a wide smile and just shrugs at her.

"You're right. He won't remember. But I will."

And it melts her heart a little, her Grinch's heart, makes her step even closer to her men in the darkness, lean against Castle's shoulder so she can see her son as he stares at the tree, entranced.

"I will too," she murmurs, reaching out to brush her fingers over her son's cheek. He leans in for her, hands gripping the collar of her coat, her scarf.

"Uh-oh, incoming," Castle laughs. Kate takes the boy from him and hugs him tightly, kissing his cheeks, the soft part of his neck, while Dashiell giggles and squirms so he can see.

"You like the tree, sweet boy?" She turns so that they both face the display, then shifts Dash to her other arm so that she can grab Castle's hand. He squeezes back and she leans in to kiss him, her lips curling into a smile, hoping to show him how much she appreciates this.

New traditions.

Because those over-the-top decorations, his crazy Castle Christmas - it makes her feel like she'll never be enough.

But this-

This she can do.

"Love you, Castle."

"Merry Christmas, Kate."

She laughs finally, shakes her head. "You do realize it's only November."

"Gotta get an early start."


	2. Chapter 2

**Home, Sweet, Home**

* * *

"Looks like the jaundice has cleared up, Mrs. Castle."

Kate stifles the urge to roll her eyes at the name and takes her baby girl from the isolette. The nurse moves out of the room again and Kate settles back in the bed, her legs crossed, clothes already on, so very ready to get out of here.

Castle comes through the doorway without Dashiell, and she lifts an eyebrow at him.

"Alexis has him," he explains, heading for her side with his arms out. "My turn."

"Not-uh," she says, twisting her torso to keep the baby away from him. "I just got her. You can wait."

He pouts at her, but she has made herself immune to that look - she _has_ - had to, really, because Dashiell has the same one.

Kate glances down at her daughter, strokes her finger lightly over the girl's nose. "She's still sleeping. Look at that."

"She's a champion sleeper. Come on, Kate. Please? You had her all last night-"

Kate sighs, rolls her eyes at him, but gives up the baby into his eager arms. He grins at her for it, leaning in to give her a smacking kiss on the lips, and she can't help smiling back, softening at his happiness.

His joy.

"Hey there, Ellery, my sweet baby girl. Oh, wow. Kate, look."

She drops her eyes from the mesmerization on Castle's face to look at their daughter, sees the startlingly-blue eyes open on her father.

"Extraordinary," he murmurs, and then lifts his gaze to her, swallowing hard.

"Okay, okay," she mutters back, shaking her head at him as she rises to her knees, leans in to hook her arm around his neck, a soft kiss on his cheek for that. "What a big mushy pile of goo you are."

"I know. I can't help it."

"I don't remember you being this sappy over Dashiell."

"I just didn't let you see."

She sighs at that, pressing her cheek to his to keep the flare of regret tamped down, then brushes her lips over his, hoping this has started to give it all back. Somehow. She wants this to be everything he couldn't let himself have last time.

"All right, Daddy. You taking us home, or what?"

"Yeah. Home. Definitely." He catches her by the back of the neck, squeezing as his mouth seeks hers. She kisses him softly, slowly, lets herself linger. This is nice, this is beautiful, and tender, and, yes, extraordinary.

Okay, she's a little sappy too.

"Let's go, Rick."

He nods against her and breaks away; she can see him blinking quickly and hiding his face as he turns for the baby carrier on the floor.

She smiles to herself and lets him fuss over Ellery, getting her strapped in, placed just so, and then she slides her arm through his as he picks up their daughter in the carrier.

"Aren't you proud of me?" he asks.

"For what?" she says, lifting an eyebrow.

"No Mrs. Castle jokes. Not a single one. I have restrained myself this _whole_ time."

"So what?" she laughs. "Not like I care."

His face falls, and he huffs at her, but leads her out of the hospital room. "Not like you care. Whatever. Give it a few weeks, let it really settle in, and it'll hit you."

* * *

She can see the alarm clock from here and the bassinet just beside the bed, but still-

Kate lifts up from the mattress, slides out from under Castle's arm, and gets out of bed, just to check.

Ellery is still asleep, has been for hours now, and Kate bites her lip as she reaches out to stroke a finger over the girl's cheek.

"Okay, you have _got_ to be hungry. Come on, baby girl." She slides her hands under the baby's neck, at her back, and pulls her up out of the bassinet.

Ellery startles awake, staring up at her mother, but her eyes drop closed again as Kate head back for bed.

"This is crazy. I know this is crazy," she murmurs to herself. "But you're so tiny. You need to eat."

Kate settles back into the pillows, the baby squirming in her arms, opening and closing her fingers and yawning. The night creeps in close and intimate around them, and Castle is completely out at her side; she shifts the baby closer and lets her nurse, biting her bottom lip as she has to keep startling Ella awake.

Stupid. It's so stupid to wake her newborn out of a wonderful sleep just to feed her - she'll wake when she's hungry, of _course_ she will, this is ridiculous-

"Mommy."

Kate glances up and finds Dashiell at the door, one little hand on the knob, his eyes shining in the darkness. "Hey, little man," she whispers. "You up?"

"I wake up. I see my baby?"

"Okay, come on," she whispers. "Just be quiet so you don't wake Daddy."

Dashiell comes running into the room with a grin on his face, the footies of his pajamas flopping against the wood floor. "I won't wake him. My baby sleepin' too?"

"Nope, she's feeding."

Kate reaches out a hand and grips him under the arm, helping him climb up onto the bed. He wriggles in close to her, leaning against her shoulder and watching his sister.

"Her eyes is open."

"They are. And look at that," she whispers, stroking her finger down Ellery's face. "She's looking right at you."

"Oh, she is. She's looking at me. Hi, my baby." Dashiell leans in over the baby, and Kate has to catch him with an arm around his waist, keep him from falling into Ellery.

"Soft touch, sweetheart."

"I not hurt her. Hi, hi, baby girl. Oh, look, she's so pretty."

Kate grins, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing, and leans over to kiss his cheek for that. Dashiell lifts his eyes to her with that wide open smile, and then he wraps his arms around her neck, hanging on.

"Hey, Mommy."

"Hey," she laughs softly. "If you can be quiet, I'll let you try to fall asleep in the big bed."

He squirms down next to her, wriggling a little more than necessary, digging in under her arm to get close. Ellery keeps forgetting what she's doing to watch her brother, tracking his movements and watching him cuddle up to their mother. Kate strokes the hair off his forehead and then feels Castle shifting in the bed beside her.

She glances over at him and Castle is opening his eyes, turning over to sleepily loop his arm around her waist.

"Whoa, whoa, Castle - careful." She lifts the baby out of the way, trying not to jostle her too much, and Castle opens his eyes, sees the kids in bed with them.

"Huh, family time."

"Go back to sleep," she murmurs.

"You okay?" he mumbles, opening his mouth to give her a sloppy kiss against her hip.

"I'm fine-"

"Dash, buddy, you okay?"

"Hi, Daddy," he chirps, wriggling at her side.

Castle gruffs and lifts up, moves to sit beside her in the bed, his hand gently touching the top of Ellery's head as the baby stares at him.

"Well, looks like we're all up. Who wants hot chocolate?"

"Ooh, me, me, me!" Dashiell bounces up in the bed, causing Ellery to turn her head and watch him, entirely entranced with her older brother.

"Okay, well, feeding time isn't happening," Kate sighs, rolling her eyes at the boys as they clamber off the bed. "So make one for me too. Maybe she'll finish when we all settle down."

Castle turns back to her with a grin. "Sorry, Mommy."

"No, no. It's fine," she hums, grinning at him as he lifts Dashiell up in his arms. "More than fine. Go get our hot chocolate started."

They disappear out of the room and Kate tries one more time to get Ellery to nurse, but she's awake now, straining after her brother, entirely uninterested.

"Okay," she murmurs, kissing Ella's forehead gently. "Just for a little bit. Then it's back to bed and I promise not to wake you to feed this time."

* * *

"That's not right," she mutters. "This is her first Christmas with us, Castle."

"It's not," he insists, hanging the ornament back up. "It's her second. Her first Christmas was the day she was born."

"But it wasn't her first. Not with all this - the traditions and everything. And this is important."

He sighs at her. "But she was here for Christmas. She was my best Christmas present."

Kate rolls her eyes. "And while that's very sweet, it doesn't change the fact that this is her first Christmas."

"You're wrong."

The baby's first Christmas ornament that Castle has hung still has the wrong date - or the right one, depending.

"Let's ask my mother."

"Oh no. Not-uh. She'll agree with you." Kate crosses her arms over her chest, but Dashiell comes running into the living room with his arms filled.

"Momma!"

"Hey, wild man. What've you got?"

"I made it! Allie did help. Look."

And instead of going with Castle to ask Martha in the kitchen, Kate's sidetracked by an excited boy who has made ornaments out of construction paper and _buckets_ of glitter. Kate's the one who gets to help him decorate the tree while Castle smirks at her with an almost-one year old Ellery in his arms, showing their girl all the sparkling lights.

* * *

Both kids are squirmy with excitement, of course they are, and even Rex is finding it hard to settle down, but Ella could fall asleep snuggled down with Kate while Castle reads their Christmas story. Dashiell, wide-eyed and still asking questions that are increasingly hard to answer, looks like he won't be going to bed for a while yet.

They've learned the hard way that sending Dash up to bed when he's nowhere near sleepy only leads to trouble.

Castle takes a quick glance over to Kate and Ella, cozy and rubbing noses with each other, speaking back and forth in Croatian or French or some other language he's not privy to. And yes, it's adorable. Ellery's dark hair hangs in soft curls down her back, courtesy of all night beauty parlor with Allie and Kate, and her red footed pajamas look a little snug for her. She's still a tiny thing, but she's grown so much this year.

His baby girl is going to be four tomorrow.

"Okay, but what about the people who live in apartments that got no chimney," Dash says, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set.

"Don't have a chimney. He goes in the door, of course. And you know an elevator shaft is made exactly like a chimney. Believe me, Santa appreciates modern conveniences, kiddo."

"Huh," he mutters and lays his head back down on Castle's shoulder. "Okay. Back to the story."

Castle smirks and resumes reading, flipping the page only to have Dashiell put a hand out and stop him.

"His name's kinda like mine. Dasher."

"Close."

"Why reindeer?"

"They live in the North Pole. It's not like Santa can get horses up there, my man. Horses would freeze to death. Reindeer have those special thick coats."

"Oh yeah. And light up noses."

Kate snorts and Castle elbows her hard to shut her up. "Right, and the glowing nose helps out a lot too."

Dash rubs his fingers over the edge of the book. "But I guess that's a recessive trait. Right, Dad? For it to be so rare that Rudolph is the only one in a long time."

"Recessive?" Kate murmurs. "Where'd you learn that word?"

"I don't know. Probably one of Dad's books."

"You've been reading Dad's books?" Kate says, starting to sit up a little bit, get into the game. Castle reaches over and pats her knee, squeezing.

"Just the ones about Mom, right, my man?"

"Yup. They're good. And mine too. I always read mine."

"I read Dashy's books," Ellery says sleepily. "I'm in Dashy's books too. Right, Daddy?"

"You sure are, cricket."

"Dad," Dashiell insists, drawing attention back to himself. "If Rudolph has a son, does his son have a red nose too?"

"Yeah, I would think so."

"That's not how recessive works," Kate mutters. Thankfully, Dash doesn't hear that.

"Well then, I bet that's how come Santa finds everybody. Cause, Dad, Rudolph is _old._ Older than you."

"I know, right?" Kate laughs. "So old."

"You think it's Rudolph Jr up in the sky with Santa tonight?" Castle goes on, ignoring Kate snickering at his side.

"Yup. That makes the most sense."

"You're right."

Dashiell flips past the part in the book Castle had just gotten to in the story of Rudolph and moves on towards the back. "Okay, see, this is the last part, Dad. I don't think - I mean, if Santa takes his time to get it just right, then I don't know how he does everybody's house. _And_ I don't know why Jeremy in school _always_ gets cool stuff from Santa because I _know_ he hasn't been nice all year long. I know it."

Kate turns into Castle with Ellery cuddled between them, that _how do you answer that one, buddy?_ look on her face, but he ignores her. "That's a good question, my man. But here's the thing. Jeremy maybe doesn't do as great a job being nice as you do. But for Jeremy, he's doing pretty good. And Santa knows how hard it is for Jeremy to control himself, so when Santa looks at everything that's happened over the year, he thinks to himself, Jeremy, you haven't been nice exactly. But you haven't been naughty enough for coal in your stocking."

"Oh."

"Christmas is about mercy, my man. Getting things we don't deserve. Presents and our families and the way people love us. And we give those things to other people too, reminding them that human beings aren't so bad after all."

"Oh. Well, I guess when I got in a fight with Ellery upstairs and told her I was going to feed Linc to the dog, I guess that wasn't that nice either."

Castle raises an eyebrow. Didn't hear that fight. "Yes. Well. That's not that nice."

"And I'd be really sad if Santa only paid attention to those times I wasn't nice."

"Exactly. Santa has mercy on all of us, my man. We're all on the nice list."

"That makes a whole lot more sense," Dashiell sighs softly. And even though he's six years old and he thinks he's too cool for pretty much everything, Dash curls up against Castle and snakes his arm around his father's chest.

So close to being sleepy.

Castle takes in a long, shallow breath, trying not to jostle his son, and draws his arm up around the boy's thin shoulders. He's gotten tall this year, too tall for just a six year old. A head above all the kids in his class.

"How's Santa get all them presents at every kid's house?" Dash murmurs, his lashes dipping and springing back up, wrestling sleep. "Since we're all put on the nice list, that's a lot of houses. And why don't I ever hear him? You gotta explain, Daddy."

Daddy.

Castle presses his mouth to the boy's forehead and gently closes the book. "Well, he's quiet like a ninja, so no one hears him sneaking around. And as for getting to every house, you remember in Harry Potter when they went back in time?"

"Ohhhh," Dashiell releases a long sighing breath of relief. "Time-Turner. You're right. Daddy, you're so smart."

"I try," Castle chuckles, cupping his hand around Dashiell's head and watching him struggle with sleep. He's not fighting it; it fights him. He tries to cling to it with everything in his body and sometimes it works.

"I love Santa," Dashiell murmurs against his father's chest. "He's one of the good guys."

And now that Dashiell's nearly there, Castle tugs his gangly, growing-out-of-baby son to him and gets out of bed. Rex huffs and lumbers up then jumps down to follow. The boy's arms are sprawled out, his breathing slow and regular, and Castle gathers him closer and heads out of their bedroom to put the kid in his own bed.

Dashiell rouses and blinks in the darkness, his eyes on the Christmas tree in the living room. "My dog," he mumbles.

"He's following us," Castle whispers as he mounts the stairs.

Rex keeps at a safe distance until Castle has his son tucked into bed, and then the quiet dark shadow of a dog jumps up to lie down at Dashiell's side. Castle rubs the beast behind his ears, pats his back, and then leans in to kiss his son goodnight.

"Ho, ho, ho," he breathes out.

When he goes back downstairs, he figures Kate fell asleep with Ellery, otherwise she would have been right behind him. He nudges open the bedroom door where its swung half-closed, reminds himself to get a guy in to look at it after the holidays, re-balance it or something.

But Kate isn't asleep in their bed. Ellery is, of course, her hair in a mess and her mouth open. But Kate's sitting up, swiping at her cheeks as tears stream out of her eyes.

"Kate?"

She shakes her head in the dim light spilling in from the bathroom, waves him off with a hand. "Fine. I'm fine."

He crawls back into bed, carefully reaches out to untangle their daughter from her mother, and simply slides Ella over to his side of the bed. He wraps his arms around Kate and drags her against his chest, his mouth at her temple.

"What's going on?" he murmurs.

She shakes her head again, gives a soft little laugh as she wipes her eyes. Still crying.

"Just. Nothing," she mutters finally. "It's stupid."

"But?" he prompts. She's already pulling back, running the tips of her fingers over the last of her tears, her smile bright and wide through it. Seams of joy run through her eyes in green and gold.

"But my six year old son still believes in Santa," she whispers finally, a shrug to her shoulders that belies the grateful awe in her tone. "So thank you, Rick. For magic. Because there's mercy in that too."

His throat closes up and he leans in to gather her against him, all of her, bony knees and sharp elbows and her chin in his shoulder and her wet cheeks. All of her.

"You, Kate Beckett, are half the magic."

* * *

Ellery sets it all up.

Army men go here. Barbie and Stacie and Ken and Kelly and Todd and all them kids go here. And then she has the Space Invaders, and the Avengers, Dashy's Ninja Turtles that used to be Mommy's so he has to _share_, and then her new Star Wars and her new Toy Story.

It's many people.

She has the whole study and Daddy hasn't been in here once to mess it up. Dashiell is playing the piano out in the big room with Gram, and Ella has it all as she likes it.

She squirms in the couch and hops down to get her horse, rides him into the castle through Daddy's desk, and Barbie gets on. Barbie and the Queen Amidala are going to save everyone, even baby Luke and baby Leia (which are Barbie doll babies, but Ellery is just _pretending_, they can be whatever she wants them to be when she's pretending).

"I'll save you," she breathes out, galloping her horse away with Barbie coming to Amidala's rescue at the couch. The Star Wars girl falls, falls, falls and Horse catches her.

Ellery could fall like that. If she puts down the cushion on the floor and maybe the blanket over it.

Hmm.

Ella throws them both down right below the arm of the couch and then climbs up. It's not a long way at all. So she clambers on top of the arm then too and stands slowly, slowly up. She is so tall now. A tall girl looking out over everything. All her people.

"Ella Kate."

Ellery's head whips around to the doorway where her mother is standing, arms crossed. But she smiles.

"You ready for birthday?"

Ellery jumps off the couch and goes running to her mother, leaping into her arms. Mommy oofs and catches her, snuggling her close. She smells so good, sharp apple juice and perfume and Christmas tree.

"I'm ready, I'm ready," Ellery shivers, curling her arms around Mommy's neck. "Is everyone out there?"

"Gram is here. You got Papa and Kelly's gift this morning, but you didn't know it. I hid it. Allie and Rafe sent your birthday present and Daddy has everything for you. Are we missing anyone?"

"No," she sighs and squirms closer. "Let's go."

Mommy gives her kisses and more kisses, all over her neck and cheeks and mouth and forehead as they go. Ellery holds tightly to her, wriggly worm and giggly until Mommy dumps her in her chair at the table.

"Rick, you ready?" Mommy calls out, then leans down over Ella. "Eyes closed, cricket."

Ellery shuts her eyes tightly, so tight and good, breathes hard through the darkness behind her lids, listening. Dashiell scrambles up to the table and knocks into it as he gets his seat across from her. She smells Gram's perfume and her make up and her flowery, beautiful dress. And then she can hear the crackle of flame and sparklers.

"Haaaaaaappp-" Daddy drawls out the beginning of the birthday song, and Ellery pops open her eyes to see it coming.

Her cookie cake with all its beautiful huge candles, bright and dancing around in the dimness. Everyone is singing for her and Gram is the loudest and most happy, and Mommy is the softest and most beautiful. Daddy is always silly and Dashiell sounds like him too.

And then Mommy scrapes the hair back from Ella's face and kisses her forehead.

"Make a wish, baby girl."

Ellery takes in a deep, long breath and Daddy sets down her cookie cake right in front of her. All her candles - way more than four - but they write out the number in purple fire.

She doesn't want to them to disappear just yet.

She wishes. . .

Ellery reaches out and hooks her arm around Mommy, finds Daddy's collar and grabs tight. And then she leans in and blows.

So hard.

All her breath.

And the purple flames go out.

"Yay! Look at that, Ella-bean. All on the first go," Gram cheers, applauding her. "Your wish comes true."

Mommy is nuzzling her nose and kissing her and Daddy has one hand on the cookie to take it away so he can cut it up for everyone, his other hand heavy on her head and a kiss to her cheek, smacking and loud and happy.

Dashiell hops up from the table and Rex goes running after him; he comes back with huge huge huge presents, all for Ellery, all for her.

Daddy calls out, "Open up your gifts, cricket. I'll cut cake and get ice cream."

"Cards first," Ellery says. But Mommy knows and she's already piled them up right in front of Ella, all the colors of the envelopes. Pink, purple, blue, yellow, green, and red. Like a rainbow birthday. "Which one first, Mommy?"

"Any one you like," Mommy says, sitting down right beside her, pulling a chair in close. Gram is taking pictures with the camera and the flash makes her eyes so bright she can't see, and then she puts her finger on the purple one, wriggles it out from under all the others.

"This you wrote," she says, turning to Mommy with the purple envelope. "I see my name on it just like when you write me notes at school in my lunch."

"I did. I wrote your name on it, sweetheart. It's from me and Daddy both."

Ellery flicks her finger at the lip of the envelope; the flap is loose and not sealed, just like she likes it. She pulls it open carefully; she doesn't want any of it to tear-

"Just like Mommy," Daddy huffs in her ear, blowing out a raspberry at her neck and making her giggle. "Super slow opening everything. Here's your cookie cake. I made you a frosting surprise."

Ellery clutches the still not open card to her chest and looks at her plate. A big purple heart in frosting and it has a smiley face inside. "Daddy, it's silly," she giggles, and wraps an arm around his neck.

"Kinda like you. Tear in, cricket. You're torturing us all going slow."

"Go as slow as you like, Ellery. It's your birthday," Gram says.

"Thank you, Grammy," she nods and puts the card back flat on the table by her plate of cookie cake. She doesn't like fluffy cake - it's all air and then too-sweet frosting that makes her mouth pucker. But cookies are thick and good and warm and have chocolate chips and Mommy always makes it and she can lick the spoon.

"Here's Mommy's piece," Daddy says, coming back again with one for her. "Dashiell, wild man, where are the rest? I think there are two more presents you forgot."

"Oh, oops! I get 'em!" Dashy runs off again and Daddy puts down a plate for Gram.

Ellery smooths her fingers over her purple card and goes back to tugging the envelope free. She can see white and a trim of purple plaid around the edge, and then a stuffed puppy dog on the front holding a big green and red present. And-

"Oh, Mommy, it has mine name!"

Ellery clutches the card to her and turns to her mother, so surprised, and then pulls the card away to look again.

Mommy reads the card out loud, tracing her finger over each word. _"Happy Birthday, Ella!"_

All in her purple favorite, oh her favorite, and when she opens it up inside, the doggy pops up with her red and green present and it says-

_And Merry Christmas!_

"I know this one!" Ellery says. "Merry Christmas. Mine birthday card does say Merry Christmas to me too?"

"You're supposed to be four," Dashiell huffs, putting two more presents on the dining room table. "Stop talking like a baby."

"Can you read what it says down here?" Mommy says quietly, tapping her finger below the Christmas part.

"No, what?"

"Try it. If this says 'Merry Christmas' and that's the same word-"

"Merry! Merry. . ." Ellery studies the next word and bites her lip, glances up to see that Dashiell is reading it over her shoulder and he already knows, doesn't he? He knows and he wants to tell her, he's going to _ruin-_

"Birthday!" she gasps, eyes opening wide at the card. "Merry Birthday?"

"That's right, my smart girl. It says, _In that case, I guess I should wish you a Merry Birthday!"_

A Merry Birthday.

Oh.

She presses the card closed and grabs it tight, turns to Mommy. "Oh, it's my birthday Christmas card! With my own name on it."

Mommy is smiling so wide and she catches Ellery's cheeks with her fingers and pulls her in for a kiss on the mouth.

"Your Daddy found it. Isn't he good?"

"Daddy!" she gasps and jumps up to run for him, wrapping her arms around his legs as he carries more cake to the table.

"Whoa there, cricket. Let me put this down."

It thumps onto the table and then he's hauling her up into his arms and squeezing her tightly and she's got her birthday card pressed against her favorite purple sweater and Daddy kisses her and cups the back of her head with his big hand and she is _four years old_ and this is-

"The best best birthday, Daddy."

Mommy is laughing as Daddy brings her back to the table and instead of going in her own chair, she climbs into her mother's lap and wriggles down close and warm and she doesn't even need cookie cake or ice cream or any of it, but the card stays pressed into her chest.

Mommy's head dips down to meet hers, her soft hair falling like a curtain over them, just the two of them, the smell of apple flowers and momma and Christmas and Ellery gets a kiss on her cheek and a squeeze.

"Happy birthday, sweet girl."

Ella reaches one hand up and curls it in her mother's hair and holds on. "Merry Christmas, Mommy."


End file.
